


from eden

by zigsexual (anythingbutloud)



Series: the driam vignettes [10]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, M/M, eighty percent blushing and laughing and kisses, the sappiest love shit u ever saw, this baby really got away from me huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 07:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutloud/pseuds/zigsexual
Summary: the morning after, and after, and after.





	from eden

**Author's Note:**

> this giant behemoth of a fic officially brings the series to a close!!! this one is so long that i outsourced it to ao3 to save ur tumblr dash the pain. also i just wanna add that u should not use any of this for sexual education, as for narrative purposes i skip over some necessary ‘steps’ in regards to the actions that occur bc lbr none of us wanna read that shit. unless u do in which case sorry. anyway if ur using choices fic for that knowledge ur weird regardless but. a psa.

When Drake wakes up again, Liam is on the phone, standing by the windows and looking out over the city, shirt not quite buttoned up. Drake rolls onto his side, watching as Liam carries on his conversation looking every part the polished diplomat. His voice is lowered, clearly trying not to disturb Drake, and he doesn’t seem to have noticed him stirring in the bed yet.

Drake sits up and stretches, body so deliciously relaxed he actually doesn’t feel like drinking for once. The night before washes over him, and as he looks over at Liam he wonders how on earth he could be so lucky.

Liam glances over when Drake gets up, rustling the sheets, and his face breaks into a smile so bright it’s contagious. Drake smiles back, stretching again before crossing the room to meet him, Liam dropping the phone to his side as he pulls him into his arms.

“Good morning, love,” he hums, kissing Drake’s cheek. “How’d you sleep?”

“Better when you were there.” Drake traces a finger along the edges of exposed skin at his collar. “You look good.”

It’s an understatement; Liam looks so handsome it makes his heart swell. He smiles again at Drake’s words, and Drake is fairly certain he could get drunk off that smile. “Is that my shirt?”

“Oh,” Drake looks down. “Yeah, I borrowed it. Might head back over to my room and change into something I actually own in a sec, though.”

“You can keep it,” Liam says, still gazing at him with that enamored look on his face. It’s enough to make Drake feel like a teenager again, lovesick and soft. “It looks better on you.”

He’s felt like this before: the first few weeks after he came back from school, when everything seemed weightless and new and full of potential. In retrospect, he understands why people call it ‘young love,’ because there was something so all-consuming about loving Liam back then. He feels it now like an echo, an emotion that used to be louder — the wonderment of possibility tempered by the reality of circumstance.

“That’s _absolutely_ a lie,” Drake laughs, Liam pressing a kiss to his forehead, arm strong around his waist. When he pulls back, Drake tilts his head towards his hand. “Your phone call?”

“I muted it,” Liam admits, “It’s a conference call. Incredibly thrilling. I can all but guarantee you I haven’t missed anything important.”

“Such a responsible monarch,” Drake muses, “What if you’ve accidentally damaged our foreign relations?”

“I’d be surprised, considering this is the weekly finance briefing from the house treasurer.”

“Gross, stop talking about how rich you are.”

Liam laughs, and Drake is embarrassed by the way his heart speeds up at the sound. “Have you only come over here to mock me?”

“No,” He brings a hand up to Liam’s hair, brushing his fingers through it, Liam leaning into his touch. “I also came over here to kiss you.”

When they come together, it’s different than the night before; there’s no desperate urgency, no longing withheld for years. This moment is slow and sweet and full of patient possibility, Liam’s hand curling in against Drake’s shirt, phone slipping out of his fingers as he wraps his other arm around Drake’s neck.

Drake pulls back just enough to whisper, “Babe, your _call_ ,” but Liam just kisses him again, murmuring back, “Mm, don’t care,” and he can’t be bothered to protest further.

Liam is intoxicating, everything about him like some elaborately orchestrated daydream, fingers in his hair and lips like a brand on his neck. He’s smothered in the scent of him, still bewildered that Liam could want him like this, still falling in love with the way they fit together, two halves of the same heart.

“Why’d we ever stop doing this?” Drake breathes, Liam pressing kisses against his jaw. “I could’ve had you all this time.”

Liam lifts his head, their lips nearly brushing. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I loved you too much. I still do.”

“You broke up with me like, three times.”

The corner of Liam’s mouth lifts up in a smile. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re really gonna have to make it up to me,” Drake whispers, kissing him again — and again, and again.

They only break apart when the conference line dial tone starts droning out of Liam’s phone, too loud and obnoxious to ignore. Drake runs a hand through his hair, trying to look less like a victim of seven minutes in heaven, while Liam finds his phone on the floor and hangs up the call.

“We should probably finish getting ready,” he sighs, “There’s a lot on the agenda for today.”

“Just as thrilling as your finance call, I hope.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Liam starts buttoning up the rest of his shirt, nodding towards the door to the living area. “Also, there’s a bunch of food on the table in the other room if you’re hungry. I wasn’t sure what you wanted, and you were still asleep… so I just ordered everything.”

“Of course you did,” Drake laughs. “I’ll meet you in there, okay? I’m gonna head back to my room and _actually_ get dressed.”

“Okay,” Liam answers, grabbing Drake’s hand before he can walk away. He looks back, and Liam squeezes his fingers softly before letting go. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Drake says, hand falling back to his side as he turns towards the door.

Liam always gets an entire hotel floor when the court travels (for security reasons officially, although it’s certainly not without its upper-crust roots), so Drake figures he’ll be fine to sneak across to his room unseen for a few minutes. He pockets one of the keycards perched on the coffee table and slips out quietly, closing the door gently behind him.

When he turns out towards the hallway, he stops short at the sight of Bastien against the wall to his left, hands clasped in front of him, earpiece tucked into place. 

“Oh,” Drake says. “Um —”

Bastien holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Drake, for the sake of both of us, just don’t.”

“Right,” Drake answers, ducking his head down, face already red as he hurries away towards his room. Just like him to remember the security reasons, but not the _actual_ fucking security.

Once inside, he gets to work hunting down something clean to wear, his cheeks still burning. _They’re all going to know eventually_ , he thinks, and the thought makes his heart race. Their secret, out in the open for everyone to see.

He’s more nervous than ever when he heads back towards Liam’s room, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Bastien. As he opens the door, he hears Bastien say into his earpiece, “Peregrine plus one.”

Liam is off the phone now, sitting in the living room with the television on, tying his tie while he watches the news. He looks up as Drake enters, smiling, but his face drops when he sees his expression. “What is it?”

Drake drops the key card onto a nearby table, crossing to sit down next to Liam, elbowing him as he reaches for a muffin. “You didn’t remember to tell me that Bastien — who I might remind you used to _literally_ change my diapers — stands _right_ outside your door.”

Liam laughs, and Drake elbows him again. “Shut up, you’re not the one who just did the walk of shame _twice_.” Liam only laughs even harder, and this time Drake throws a piece of muffin at him. “This is the penthouse, right? I’m gonna go jump off the fucking roof.”

“You can’t,” Liam grins at him, deflecting as Drake throws another chunk of muffin. “I’d miss you too much.”

“You should’ve missed me _less_ , then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Liam kisses him, pulling him closer by his arm, and Drake relaxes against him almost instantly. He’s helpless when it comes to Liam, he always has been, and Liam knows it. He’d do anything to make Liam happy, even if it means setting their relationship on a global spotlight.

The thought makes his stomach clench.

“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, sliding off the couch to stand up and tugging Liam towards him via their joined hands, head tilted in the direction of the door. “You canceled your press conference, right? Let’s just stay in this hotel all day. God knows there’s more than enough food in here now.”

Liam looks up at him from the couch, arm outstretched as Drake tries to lead him away. “I want to, you have no idea how much I want to. But I can’t. I already canceled so many things just to get us to noon. There are photo ops, a security briefing, a diplomatic meeting with one of the senators who’s been endorsing a key piece of trade legislation the EU is trying to —”

Drake takes Liam’s other hand, pulling him to his feet. “Really? That’s so fascinating. Why don’t you tell me all about it in the bedroom?”

“ _Drake_ ,” Liam laughs, protesting even as he lets Drake lead him towards the door, “I have to do my _job_.”

“Do you?” Drake raises an eyebrow. “Because I was under the impression that you’re the King, and you don’t answer to anyone.” He leans in, face a few inches from Liam’s. “Except me.”

“I…” Liam drops Drake’s hands, pulling him close by the waist instead, smiling even as he sighs. “I could probably cancel my lunch with the UN ambassador.”

“Didn’t we literally just go to the UN? Why do they need lunch with you too?”

Liam kisses his forehead. “How have you been around me for this many years and still learned nothing about politics?”

“Not true,” Drake wraps his arms around Liam’s neck. “I know some things.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

“Well, a monarchy is when there’s a royal in charge.” He presses a kiss to Liam’s temple. “A democracy is when the people vote. A republic is when the people vote to elect representatives.” He lingers a moment against Liam’s skin, breathing in the scent of him: clean and a touch expensive. “And… a relationship is when _I_ vote that the royal in charge cancels his lunch with the elected representative and comes back to bed with me.”

Liam laughs, and Drake thinks that making him laugh might just be the best feeling in the world. “A for effort, C for execution. The UN Ambassador is appointed, not elected.”

“I’m only _half_ American, okay?”

Liam tightens his arms around Drake, bringing him closer and kissing him as Drake’s hand finds the back of Liam’s neck and curls in against his hair. Maybe if he can keep Liam like this, he just might be able to get his way, UN Ambassador be damned.

“I want you,” he whispers, forehead pressed against Liam’s, eyes dark. “When are we gonna get another day like this, just you and me? Another day where nobody knows what’s going on? It’s all going to change soon, you know that. Isn’t it kind of fun sneaking around?”

“It’s only fun sneaking around if I know that the alternative is truly an option.”

“Well, there you go,” Drake presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m all in, Liam. We can do a press conference right now for all I care, as long as I get one more hour with you.”

“Drake…”

“You’re really gonna tell me you don’t want to walk through that door and pick up where we left off?”

Liam’s fingers dig in at his hips. “I’m not saying _that_.”

“Then come on,” Drake leans in against his neck, kissing just under his jawline. “Can’t you tell them you’re in mourning over the end of your engagement or something? Madeleine might as well be useful.”

“I could have, if I didn’t already cancel the press conference to _announce_ the end of my engagement so that I could sleep with you.”

“Yeah, but all we did was _sleep_.” Drake bites softly at his skin, smiling when he feels Liam inhale sharply. “And you look so good right now. And I want you.”

When Liam winds a hand into his hair, pulling his head back up to kiss him, Drake knows he’s won. He lets his teeth drag on Liam’s lower lip, and Liam walks him back against the door to the bedroom.

“Want me to get that?” Drake murmurs, reaching for the doorknob. Liam grabs his wrist.

“If we go in there, I’ll never leave.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

Liam brings his other hand down to cradle Drake’s face, resting their foreheads together. “This isn’t fair. You’re trying to seduce me.”

“Exactly,” Drake can feel a smile tugging at his lips. “Is it working?”

“You know, I was so good before you,” Liam closes his eyes, fingers running along the back of Drake’s neck, making him shiver. “I never snuck out of events, I never canceled meetings, I never made up excuses.”

“I like you good,” Drake presses in, trying to kiss him. “You’re so easy to rile up.” Their lips barely touch before Liam’s fingers dig in and pull his head back against the door.

“Am I?”

Drake sighs as Liam starts kissing his neck again, reaching up to thread his fingers in Liam’s hair. “Be careful there Romeo, I didn’t bring a turtleneck.”

“Shut up.”

“God, you really have a neck thing, don’t you?”

Liam lifts his head, smiling. “You’re really never going to shut up, are you?”

“If I shut up, how am I supposed to tell you how much I like you bad, too?” He lowers his voice, leaning close until he can feel Liam’s breath against his skin. “Good Liam wouldn’t drop a conference call, or break off an engagement, or lie to his family.” He locks eyes with Liam, running his fingers down through his hair to ghost over the back of his neck, trailing lightly around to his collarbone. “And Good Liam _definitely_ wouldn’t fuck me in the Applewood hedge maze during the festival parade.”

Liam’s face flushes, and Drake tries to hold back his grin, whispering against his lips, “You remember that?”

“Of _course_ I do.”

“What about the throne room after the final gala for Leo’s engagement tour? You wanna do _that_ again?”

“ _Stop_ ,” Liam laughs, Drake kissing across his cheeks, “I _really_ can’t cancel anything after this lunch, Drake.”

Drake leans in to capture Liam’s mouth with his, tongue parting his lips as his free hand snakes up over the back of his shirt, tracing the lines of muscle in Liam’s back. He’s so warm, tensing under Drake’s touch, and he lets his fingers settle in against Liam’s shoulder, anchoring on as he draws him even closer.

“What do you want, babe?” he whispers, lips still brushing together. “You were so good last night. Let me return the favor.”

Liam hums appreciatively. “Just let me kiss you.”

“Yeah, kinda feels like the rest of you is not in agreement on that.”

“Mmhm,” Liam murmurs, clearly not listening. Drake takes Liam’s face in both hands, giving him one last lingering kiss, fingers brushing the hair at the back of his neck before he pushes him away.

Liam’s hands fall to his sides, taking a step back. “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” Drake answers, unbuckling Liam’s belt and sliding it off.

“Drake —”

Before Liam can finish, Drake sinks down onto his knees, wasting no time undoing the front of Liam’s pants and tugging them down. “I can’t believe I’m in love with someone who wears dress slacks on a Saturday morning.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?”

“Yes.”

Liam sighs, covering his face with a hand. “Look, I know you want to stall, but I still need to call my assistant so we can cancel the lunch, because if I don’t do that soon then it’ll be too late to — _Drake_.”

He grabs the nearest piece of furniture there is with his other hand: a credenza with a stupid amount of modern art littering its shelves. Drake smirks, looking up at him. “Sorry.”

Liam looks visibly flustered, still trying to steady himself. He’s normally so composed, so put-together — making him look like _that_ is one of Drake’s favorite accomplishments.

Drake sits back slightly. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Liam breathes.

“Didn’t think so.”

“I don’t — _god_.”

“You know,” Drake says, “It’s pretty easy to shut me up. Just gotta give my mouth something else to do.”

Liam is biting his lip hard, looking down at him, eyes dark with conflicted desire. “I really… I have to call her, if… if she doesn’t hear from me in five minutes —”

“I only need four,” Drake says, “I know what you like.”

He’s done in three.

Afterwards, Liam looks completely undone: face flushed, breathing heavy, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth. His eyes follow Drake when he stands, running his hands up Liam’s chest, kissing his forehead. “You gonna make your phone call now?”

Liam leans in against his shoulder, eyes falling closed. “Drake…”

“Told you I know what you like.” Drake pulls Liam in close, pressing a kiss into his hair. Liam responds with a soft, contented sound, the heat of his cheeks warm against Drake’s skin.

“I can’t…” Liam takes a shuddery breath. “Maybe we _should_ cancel everything.”

Drake traces a circle on Liam’s hip. “If we had more time… what I would fucking do to you…”

“We’ll have time,” Liam murmurs in against his neck. “We’re going to have all the time in the world.”

The thought makes his heart speed up, arms tighter around Liam as he holds him, for the first time not waiting out a ticking clock.

Well, almost.

Liam lifts his head, cheeks still pink even as the glaze in his eyes starts to clear. “Okay, but I really do need to call her. Give me a minute?”

“Ugh, fine.” Drake drops his arms, stepping back. “Is this how it’s always going to be with you? Foreplay just fantasizing about canceling meetings?”

“Well,” Liam answers, hunting down his phone and scrolling through for the right number. “There you go. Being a king is not that sexy in practice.”

“I don’t know if I would go _that_ far.”

Liam shoots him a smile, phone already pressed between his shoulder and his ear as he gets dressed again. “Hi Caroline, it’s me. I’m so sorry to spring another change on you, but I need to rearrange things with the UN Ambassador…”

Drake busies himself looking through the array of room service items laid out like some kind of Michelin-star buffet. He’s not hungry, which he’s sure is due to the adrenaline high of the last several hours, but he probably should eat something if this day is going to be as long as Liam says it will be.

He finishes up his muffin from earlier, perched on the edge of the couch while Liam wraps up the phone call, apologizing profusely even while he’s halfway to hanging up. “She’ll live,” Drake reassures him, “You’ve got to be the easiest person in the world to work for.”

“Not today I’m not,” Liam says, “I still have to announce that I’m breaking off the engagement, which is going to be an absolute nightmare on all fronts. It’s probably best that I canceled that press conference; if we just issue a statement then everyone can lay low for a while until the initial backlash blows over.”

“It can’t be that bad. Realistically, who _actually_ likes Madeleine?”

“She’s very good at keeping up appearances. You’d be surprised.”

“By that psychotic witch?” Drake laughs. “I doubt it.”

“Well, Madeleine aside, there’s also the matter of you.”

“What about me?”

Liam smiles gently, brushing the back of his hand along Drake’s cheek before letting it fall, linking their fingers together over his knee. “Whatever are we going to do with you.”

Drake drags Liam’s hand up higher. “We could do more of what we just did.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Liam pulls his hand back, laughing. “Were you always like this?”

“Probably not. Surprisingly, you’ve been a bad influence.”

Liam shakes his head, smiling. “I won’t dignify that with a response. But listen… I don’t want to drop all this on you at once, and I know it hasn’t really been that long…”

“Liam,” Drake reaches out to touch his arm, “It’s fine. I’ve been around you long enough, I know the drill. You royals always need a plan.”

“Right.” Liam nods. “Except I don’t want it to just be my plan, I want it to be ours. We’re in this together, so I need to know what you want from this. From us.”

Drake doesn’t even need a moment to think. “You. Like this. Forever.”

Liam’s expression softens even further, a blush in his cheeks. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Would you… I mean, if we tell everyone, it’s going to be _so_ much, Drake. And I’ll do it for you, I’d do anything for you, but I want to be sure it’s something you’re prepared for.” Liam’s eyes search his face, alight with anxious energy. “There won’t be a lot of moments like this, just you and me. Privacy is… difficult. It’s always going to be out in the open, and there will always be speculation, and —”

“Liam,” Drake interrupts, “I’m not just here because I love you. Obviously I _do_ , and that’s part of it, but… you’re my best friend. We’re a team.” He reaches out, taking Liam’s hands in his. “You’re so important to me, you know? You’re the most important person in my life. I’d sit through a thousand formal galas for you and I’d wear the stupid ceremonial garb and everything. You’re worth it.”

Liam pulls him in tight, wrapping his arms around him. Drake returns the embrace, running his fingers lightly down Liam’s back, feeling Liam’s heartbeat against his own as he settles in over his shoulder. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, you ridiculous prince,” Drake says. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Liam stays in his arms a moment longer, breathing in deep before he steps back, resting his hands on Drake’s shoulders. “You’re sweet to say all that. But… it’s not always easy. It _rarely_ is, to be honest.”

“So what’s hard about it then? Let’s start there.”

Liam nods towards the couch. “Sit with me?”

They settle in next to the remains of the room service buffet, generally untouched except for a few bites here and there. Liam still sits with perfect posture, hands folded in his lap, but he lets his knee brush alongside Drake’s.

“I don’t know if you remember a lot of the media coverage with my father’s wives,” Liam begins, a nervous tilt to his voice, “But it wasn’t… kind. Or at least, there was an overwhelming majority of it that wasn’t. They ripped apart every single piece of the queens, and you know about how Leo’s mom just… gave up, after a while.”

“I don’t care what the press has to say,” Drake retorts, “They don’t know me.”

“I know,” Liam sighs. “And I know you can handle it. But I don’t want you to _have_ to, and I don’t want to see them say the kind of things I know they’ll say about you. It’s going to be doubly cruel because of who we are… Cordonia’s not as inherently religious as say, England, but there’s still a very traditional sentiment in the country.”

Drake is quiet for a moment. “Yeah.”

“And there’s no legal precedent, which I’m sure I can take some steps to amend, but there’ll be a lot of… difficult conversations to work past regarding claims to the throne and what this means for future legitimacy of potential heirs.” He sighs again, looking over at Drake with tired eyes. “I’m… it’s always going to be complicated with me. Nothing will ever be the same once people find out, and when that happens… I won’t be able to protect you from everything.”

 “I’ve told you, I don’t need you to protect me,” Drake insists, “We’re in this together.”

“I know, but…” Liam purses his lips, looking over at Drake. “I still have a non-negotiable. And… you’re not going to like it.”

Drake shrugs. “How bad can it be?”

Liam’s expression doesn’t waver. “You’re getting a security detail as soon as we land back in Cordonia.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake —”

“Non-negotiable,” Liam repeats, fixing him with a pointed stare. “It’s just as much for me as it is for you. I need to know... I have to be certain you’re safe.”

“Liam,” Drake rests a hand on his knee, “I’ll be fine. I’ve been in the palace practically all my life. I’m good, okay? You’re not going to lose me. We talked about this, remember?”

“There are things you can control,” Liam says, “and things you can’t.”

“Yeah, but that’s —”

“Drake,” Liam locks eyes with him, something pained in his voice. “My _mom_.”

Whatever protest Drake has, it dies on his lips at those words. There’s a watery glimmer in Liam’s eyes before he blinks it away, looking back at Drake in earnest. 

“Okay,” Drake says, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

Liam puts his hand atop Drake’s, fingers nestling in the spaces between, and squeezes gently. Drake squeezes back. 

“Thank you,” Liam says, his voice subdued, as if he’s trying to hold back the emotion burning at its edges. He clears his throat. “Do you… is there anything for you?”

Drake pauses, gently rubbing circles in Liam’s palm while he gathers his thoughts. “I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want our relationship to belong to some manufactured audience.” He glances over to Liam, meeting his eyes. “I want this to be ours. I want to still have private moments, things the world doesn’t get to be a part of.”

“I can’t promise you a lot of them.”

“As long as you can promise me the important ones.”

Liam nods. “Of course. And… you’ll do the public ones with me? You’re okay with that?”

“I’ll learn to be.”

“You can’t wear jeans, you know.”

“Ugh, not even on Fridays?”

Liam laughs softly, but his expression is still tinged with worry. “It’s going to be... a lot. A lot of change, particularly. In hypothetical it always sounds easier, but you know how the media is about royalty. You know how the general _populace_ is about royalty. It’s more than likely that once this comes out, every single person in the world will know who you are. I don’t want to put too much on you, and I know you’re — _we’re_ — strong enough to work through it, but especially once you’re the prince consort, things will start to —”

Drake interrupts him, eyebrow raised. “Once I’m the prince consort?”

“Oh. Well,” Liam looks slightly embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck and not quite meeting Drake’s eyes. “I mean... I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but in doing all this… I intend for you to be a permanent part of my life.”

“Liam —”

“I don’t want you to think — I’ll ask you properly of course, when you’re ready, but —”

“ _Liam_ ,” Drake says again, and suddenly it’s the only thing he _can_ say, because some terribly sentimental part of him has broken free and lodged in his throat. He pulls Liam in, kissing him recklessly, hands on his shirt collar tugging him closer. It’s sweet and rough all at once, both of them smiling into the kisses as they fill the space between them, Liam pulling Drake onto his lap and tangling his hands in his hair. 

“I love you,” Drake says, pressing kisses across Liam’s face in-between the words. “I love you so much. More than anything.”

Liam is laughing, eyes sparkling as Drake runs his hands down his arms. “You’re quite the secret romantic, aren’t you?”

“Oh, shut up,” Drake links their fingers, Liam’s hands so warm and willing in his. “What else am I supposed to say to that? I mean… _fuck,_ Liam _._ ”

“And there’s the Drake I know,” Liam smiles, kissing him once more, resting against his forehead. “But really, don’t take this as anything but an intention. I want to do right by you when the time comes.”

“As far as that’s concerned, I’m already yours,” Drake says, “Take your time. Nothing’s going to change on my end; that’s a promise.”

Liam pulls him back in, their lips meeting in a rush of emotion, and Drake drops his hands so he can push down on Liam’s shoulders, tangling together on top of him as he sinks down into the couch, laughing. Drake brings his hands up to Liam’s face to hold him, shifting his weight to prop himself up on one arm, the rest of him pressed in against Liam, so solid beneath him.

Liam wraps an arm around his back, barely pausing to breathe before they’re making out like teenagers in the backseat of a car, thoroughly distracted from the task at hand and willfully ignorant of it. Drake almost falls off the couch, Liam laughing and pulling him back, hands low on his hips, and there’s a blissful sense of frivolity about the whole thing that Drake hasn’t felt with Liam in a long, long time.

When the kisses turn slower, lazier, the two of them reluctantly coming back to reality, Drake lifts his head up and rests on his elbows, looking down at Liam fondly. “I can’t believe you planned on getting stuff done today. You just figured I’d let you walk into a bunch of stuffy meetings after last night?”

“I’m trying to be responsible, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Drake traces a finger along the side of Liam’s face. “You know, you’ll have to start considering my opinions more if I’m going to be a prince.”

“Prince _consort_.”

“Same thing.” Drake leans in and kisses him again, and Liam is so soft and gentle that he lets out a quiet sigh when they part. “I’ll have a title and everything, so I’m important.”

“You’re always important,” Liam says, gazing up at him. “To me, you’re the most important thing in the world.”

Drake feels his face get hot. “Ah, flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Liam smiles. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m —” Drake glances to the side, embarrassed. “Listen, okay, that’s not fair, because you —”

Liam wraps his arms around Drake, sitting up so they’re chest-to-chest, kissing his words away until his cheeks flush even more and he threads his fingers into Liam’s hair, forgetting all opposition as Liam’s scent intoxicates him all over again. He shifts back into Liam’s lap, Liam humming contentedly, their kisses turning messier as Drake parts his lips and Liam leans his head back ever so slightly.

“We’re supposed to…” Liam mumbles against Drake’s mouth, “to  _talk_ …”

“Then why did you kiss me?” Drake breathes, “You started it.”

“I’m weak,” Liam says, eyes full of longing. Drake wraps a hand around the back of his neck, their mouths meeting again, both breathless by the time they break apart.

“Let’s talk then,” Drake says, sitting back, the space between him and Liam suddenly so painfully vast. “Because the faster we finish talking, the faster you can finish your boring meetings and we can get back to _this_.”

“But after my meetings there’s a charity dinner,” Liam says.

“God, Liam — that’s not the point.”

“Sorry,” Liam folds his hands in his lap again, “I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous? About what?”

“About all of this. About… asking so much of you, so soon.”

Drake raises one eyebrow, regarding Liam with amusement. “This coming from the same person who half-proposed to me ten minutes ago?”

“That wasn’t —”

“Hey, I’m just teasing,” Drake reaches forward, resting a hand on Liam’s knee. “You don’t have to be nervous about any of this, okay? We’re a team. No more of this ‘carrying the weight of the world’ solitary martyr stuff. You’re not asking anything of me, Liam… we’re choosing this. Together. We choose each other, remember?”

Liam nods.

“What are you thinking?” Drake asks, “What’s the biggest concern?”

“The biggest concern,” Liam answers, a hint of a faraway smile on his face, “is how much I still want to kiss you right now.”

Drake leans in, resting his other hand on Liam’s thigh, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. “We’re not going to actually talk today, are we?”

“Nope,” Liam says, catching Drake’s face in his hands and pulling him back, bodies flush together. Always, together.

 

\---

 

They’re both blissed out and dreamy by the time Liam’s last phone alarm goes off, signaling the beginning of the dreaded meetings they’d been pushing back since daybreak. Drake watches Liam fiddle with his tie in the mirror, smoothing out imaginary creases in his shirt.

“You look perfect,” he says, leaning against the arm of the couch, chin resting on his hand. “You always do.”

“I’m late,” Liam says, “It doesn’t matter how perfect I look. I’m still late.”

“Aren’t you like, the king of something?” Drake laughs, “You’re never late. Everyone else is just early.”

Liam leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, then one more against his lips before he turns back towards the door. “Love you.”

“Have fun being diplomatic and boring,” Drake calls after him, “Spare a thought for me during your impossibly busy day. I’ll just be here by myself, watching Netflix and eating the room service.”

Liam shoots him a look over his shoulder, wrinkling his nose in what he must think is a satisfactory attempt at disparagement, though it really comes off as adorable. “Alright, alright. Say no more.”

He’s out the door all too fast, and Drake can hear the shuffle of security outside, the perpetual sound that follows Liam wherever he goes. Maybe he should be more scared of letting him walk away, letting him face the world in singularity, but at least for now Liam will always have someone to come back to.

His phone buzzes almost seconds later, and he can’t help but smile when he sees the message is from Liam: _Thinking about you. :)_

_It’s been less than a minute you idiot._

_:)_

They end the day at dinner for Liam’s aforementioned charity event, and Liam has somehow finagled the seating arrangement to have Drake right at his side. It’s dangerous and wonderful all at once, and even as Liam is caught up in conversation with rich Americans whose last names built empires, he can’t keep himself from touching Drake. All night it’s like this: one hand brushing his thigh, resting against his back, settling on his arm — even fleeting seconds where Liam holds his hand beneath the table and Drake smiles into his drink as he squeezes his fingers.

They’re still trying to be discreet, and Drake makes a mental note to remind Liam of that after this dinner, but in the moment he can’t help but get caught up in Liam’s affection. It’s intoxicating, better than the most expensive whiskey, the kind of drunk that blurs the edges of your vision into a soft-focus haze like some 1930’s close-up.

At one point during a break in the conversation, when the waiter has distracted the two guests across from them, Liam leans over to whisper in his ear, “I wish we were alone right now,” and Drake feels a shiver right down to his bones.

He can’t stop himself from beaming while Liam makes his perfunctory speech at the close of the evening, chest swelling with pride. He knows it’s stupid, how he feels like they’re the only two people in the room, like Liam is talking just to him and nobody else, but the stupid is somehow invigorating instead of disgusting and he never wants to let it go.

He doesn’t realize exactly how lovesick his expression is until Olivia, ever the ruiner of moments, makes a gagging sound at his side. “So, you’ve finally consummated _that_ relationship?”

He breaks from his smile only for a moment, giving her a well-deserved glare. “I thought your color was red, Olivia. Not green.”

She scoffs, finishing what has to be her third glass of wine. “God, how long have you been waiting to use thattired line?”

“It’s not tired,” Drake frowns. “It was a good one.”

Olivia rolls her eyes and looks down to examine her nails. “Keep telling yourself that, darling. Maybe Liam laughs at your jokes, but it doesn’t count when he’s fucking you.”

“I never said you were right.”

“You didn’t have to,” she smirks, “You look like a pubescent thirteen-year-old who just saw a pretty girl for the first time. Or in your case, a pretty boy.”

It’s truly a testament to how far gone he is that her words make his cheeks burn. “Shut up.”

“I heard Liam canceled all his morning meetings,” she muses, eyes flicking back up to his, running a finger along the rim of her empty glass. “Did you sleep at _all_ last night?”

“That’s officially _enough_ out of you.”

“I’m taking that as a no?”

Drake merely turns away and takes a sip of his drink, pointedly ignoring her comment. She raises her eyebrows at him before turning herself and signaling to a waiter for another glass of wine. Upon success, she looks back at him, searching his face as if appraising him like a jeweler.

“What?” Drake says finally, fed up with her silent judgement. “What do you want?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything to me,” Olivia lowers her voice. “You think I haven’t spent years watching the two of you stare at each other like you’re Romeo and Juliet? I know when you’re back on the same old bullshit. Honestly Drake, it’s like high school all over again — all you and Liam do is blush at each other. It’s a wonder your blood vessels haven’t given out.”

“That is _not_ how we are.”

“You’re such a dumbass. That’s how you two have _always_ been. Remember when we were sixteen and Liam ‘taught’ you how to play pool during Maxwell’s birthday party?” She crosses her arms. “You sure seemed to forget the whole damn game pretty quickly, especially considering you’d beaten me at it _five times_ the night before.”

Well. “He wasn’t — it wasn’t like that, he was just giving me pointers.”

Olivia lets out a short laugh. “Oh _please_ , you and I both know Liam is terrible at pool. It’s one of his three flaws.”

Drake raises an eyebrow, but she continues to stare him down. “One of three? What are the other two?”

“Cooking,” Olivia says, holding up one finger before bringing up the second at, “And being in love with you.”

Drake can’t even hide his smile this time. Olivia makes a disgusted sound, eyes scanning the room for her waiter’s return. “You’re _so_ gross. I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Your regards are much appreciated.”

“Ugh,” Olivia sighs, and the displeasure in her voice is not lost on her expression either. “Is this going to be, like, official?”

“Is what going to be official?”

“Stop playing dumb, you inveterate asshole.” She elbows him, and he winces, making a face at her. “God, what does Liam even see in you? He must be legally blind.”

“And you wonder why I didn’t say anything to you.”

Olivia lets a hint of a self-assured smile play on her lips. “Knew it. Took you two long enough.”

Drake just stares at her. “You’re _the_ most confusing person in the world, you know that?”

“It’s not my fault you don’t understand women.” Olivia crosses her arms again, looking back out at the crowd around them, avoiding his eyes. She sighs, quiet enough that he’s not quite sure he’s heard it at first, but then she speaks again, voice even softer than before. “Listen, I’m… I guess… I’m _happy,_ for you.”

He raises both eyebrows in amusement. “Sorry, what was that? Care to repeat yourself?”

“You heard me, I’m not saying it again.” She purses her lips and frowns down at the table, but Drake can tell that beneath it all, her sentiments are earnest. “Look, I’ve known Liam all my life, ever since I can remember — longer than you have, anyway — and god knows why, but the only times I’ve ever seen him actually relax are the moments he’s with you. So maybe there’s something to it, the two of you. I’ll never understand what he sees in you, but he sees it. That much is apparent.”

Drake regards her for a long moment before finally offering a nod of acknowledgement. “Well… thanks.”

The waiter returns with her wine, and she takes it gratefully, without a second glance in the man’s direction. As he leaves, she throws back a long drink before raising it up in Drake’s direction. “Mazel tov, Drake Walker.”

“Sorry I’m off the market for you now.”

She rolls her eyes. “God forbid. Wherever will I find a man as mediocre at sex as you were? My heart breaks for the orgasms I’ll continue not to have.”

Drake resumes his position smiling out at Liam, paying her no heed. “Oh, go suck a dick.”

Following the event, he and Liam get back to the hotel at an unreasonable hour. Drake is particularly astonished at the ability of aged Americans to stay alert after midnight, let alone to do so while several drinks in. They’d really had to drag a few of those old folks off the ballroom floor. And of course, Liam had insisted on seeing everyone off, chivalrous to a fault.

Liam takes his hand as soon as they’re out of sight and in the elevator, pressing a kiss to his temple. His own very unoccupied hotel room is but a distant memory now as he follows Liam to the suite. 

“You looked good up there,” Drake says quietly, voice lowered so Bastien won’t hear. “I know it was never in your plan, but… it suits you, being King.”

Liam smiles gratefully at him, voice equally as soft. “Thanks.”

“You’re a natural at that stuff. Being charming, giving speeches.”

“Ah, of course, my top two priorities at any given moment.”

“Hey,” Drake elbows him, “You know what I mean. I’m trying to compliment you.”

“You’re doing your best,” Liam’s smile broadens. “As your reigning monarch, I deem it satisfactory.”

“Oh, so you’re my reigning monarch now?”

“Yes, you can tell because I’m being charming and giving a speech.”

“Shut _up_.”

They reach the room, Bastien opening the door for the two of them without a second glance in Drake’s direction (and thank god for that), taking his post outside and whispering into his earpiece again.

Before the door is even fully shut, Liam has Drake pressed against it, back colliding against the wood as it falls closed with a loud click. Drake opens his mouth to say something, but Liam captures it a second later, running his tongue along Drake’s lower lip until it’s all Drake can do to clutch at his back and try to keep breathing. This kiss is more like their old ones: desperate and longing and lustful, unsure of the future and alight in the present. 

He digs his fingers in against Liam’s shirt, bunching up the material in his hands while Liam presses in, trying to close all the space between them. Drake gasps at the feeling of him, teeth tugging on Liam’s lip for a moment, and the action alone is enough to pull a ragged breath from Liam as he breaks for air. 

“Wh-what...” Drake is nearly panting, looking at Liam in a daze. “What was that for?”

“Does it have to be for anything?”

“No, it’s just... a bit _abrupt_.”

Liam’s lips come back to rest against his skin, this time making their way slowly up the column of his neck. “Tonight, I was just thinking... all the years we never got to be together...”

“God,” Drake breathes, tilting his head back against the door. “ _Liam_.”

“I want all those moments back,” Liam’s teeth scrape across the skin, and Drake’s hands are fists in his shirt now. “I want to make up for everything we lost.” He looks up at Drake then, his eyes dark like the sea. “I want to make you mine again.”

“That — that would imply I ever _stopped_ being yours,” Drake says, faltering on his words as Liam brings their bodies flush together and the friction makes his head spin. “Which I... never did.”

“Good,” Liam whispers, lips on his again, “That’s what I want to hear.”

“What else do you wanna hear?” Drake is breathing heavy, one hand traveling up to clutch at the back of Liam’s neck. “You want me to tell you how you make me feel? You want me saying your name?”

“I want you so you can’t say anything at all.”

Drake inhales sharply again, eyes falling closed as Liam kisses the words right out of him until all he can do is moan against his mouth, pressing up against Liam desperately with one leg hooked around his. They’re still fully dressed, but everything is disheveled, and each time Drake thinks he’s got a moment to catch up with his thoughts, Liam is back on his body like it’s been years since they touched. 

“The bed,” Drake manages, but Liam only pushes him back into the door. 

“No,” he says, tugging on Drake’s hair. “I want you here.”

“Anywhere,” Drake breathes, mind starting to cloud over. “I’ll give it to you anywhere.”

“You’ll _take_ it,” Liam whispers, “That’s what you’ll do.”

Liam has him out of his clothes in under a minute, pinning him against the door with his hands holding his thighs, Drake wrapped around him tight. Liam doesn’t even pause to take his own shirt off, and Drake clings to it even harder each time their hips meet, head fallen forward against Liam’s shoulder, eyes shut.

“Liam,” he says hoarsely, “ _Fuck_ , babe... _”_

“I love you,” Liam breathes, repeating himself as he brings them together, over and over, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Drake laughs, something so warm and bright in his heart that even as Liam steals the breath from his lips, the laughter spills out too. It’s different than the way they were last night — this feels almost carefree, like the burdens of their worries have slipped away.

Liam presses his forehead to Drake’s. “Open your eyes, love. Look at me.”

Drake obliges, wrapping one hand around the back of Liam’s neck, stroking his thumb over his cheek. “I love you too. God, Liam... I love you too.”

Their lips brush each time Liam presses closer, Drake desperate for him whenever he’s pulled away, the back-and-forth of their almost kisses pushing him to the edge. Liam’s hands tighten around his thighs, fingers digging into the bruises from the night before. 

“You feel... so good,” Drake whispers into their shared air. “So fucking good.” He feels Liam’s fingernails against his skin, the sting of their pressure a strange sort of ecstasy. “Are you... are you good too?” he asks, running his hands through Liam’s hair. 

“Mmhm,” Liam murmurs, finally meeting his lips, long overdue, and Drake’s fingers dig into Liam’s scalp as they slip from his hair, trying to hold on. Liam pulls back just enough to speak, his voice low in his throat as his eyes sweep across Drake’s face. “You’re everything. You make me feel…” His breath catches, Drake scratching down his neck as his grip slackens, his eyelids heavy. “You’re so…” He bites his lip. “Oh my _god_.”

“Tell me,” Drake urges, “I wanna know what I — what I do to you.”

“So much, love, just —” Liam leans in to kiss him again, and it’s so desperate this time that Drake knows they’re almost there, that if Liam just holds him close one more time...

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasps, eyes falling closed, bringing his hand down to clutch at Liam’s shoulder, head thrown back until it collides with the wood of the door that, honestly, he’d forgotten was even there. “Oh, Liam, fuck. Fucking Christ.”

Liam lets out a long exhale, almost a laugh, one hand dropping Drake’s thigh to cup the side of his face, pulling Drake’s forehead to his, smiling even as his eyes fall shut too. Drake moves his hand up to hold their faces together as they both catch their breath, Liam’s skin hot against his, heart so full it’s like he’s shivering from the inside out. They stay there a moment, breathing hard, before Drake blinks his eyes back open slowly. 

“God,” Liam whispers, cheeks flushed, “Drake...”

“Did I take it how you wanted?” He gazes out at Liam, lips swollen and pupils wide. “Was that good for you?”

“Everything you do is good for me,” Liam answers, both hands now clutching Drake’s face, so close their eyelashes almost brush together. 

When they kiss, it’s more like a lazy goodnight: hands roaming over the places that haven’t been touched yet as if to memorize them, not set them ablaze. Drake settles back on the floor, legs still a bit unsteady, Liam running his fingertips up and down the muscles of his back. 

“You’re incredible,” he says softly, “You’re mine and you’re incredible.”

“Give me a little warning next time,” Drake says, taking a long, slow breath. “We could at least have made it to the couch. That was like a prolonged wall sit.”

“We already did the couch.”

“Yeah, I know — my back still hurts from that one too.”

Liam strokes his cheek. “Sorry.”

“But you’re not.”

“I am. A little bit.”

“It _was_ kinda hot though,” Drake says, “Reminded me of when we were younger.”

God, when they were younger. When there wasn’t a care in the world, when ‘king’ was only a title meant for older brothers and stuffy men in suits, when he and Liam spent hours learning the ways they could make each other feel like this. Everything was brand new, like the spark of a thousand fireworks, all day spent waiting for the next time they could get their hands on each other and try to forget who they were.

Liam is blushing, which never fails to amaze Drake — the things he can do without batting an eye while others will reduce him to pink-cheeked innocence. “In a good way, I hope.”

Drake laughs. “In a _good_ way? Shit, if you’re not convinced that was good, I wanna know what you think _is_.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Liam presses a kiss into his hair. “If you play your cards right.”

“Oh, really now?” Drake raises an eyebrow. “In that case, I am most _definitely_ cheating.”

He manages to get Liam into the shower with him without too much provocation, both of them tired and sore and relishing the hot water as it turns to steam. It’s more out of routine than anything romantic, but Drake spends a good few minutes dragging Liam’s mouth back to his until Liam is laughing, water dripping down his face.

“What’s so funny?” Drake teases. Liam presses a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Nothing, I just…” His smile is so bright, so pure; Drake wants to bottle it up and get drunk off it. “You make me so happy. I never thought I could feel like this.”

“Well, that’s the only way you _should_ feel,” Drake answers, “You’re the best person I know. You should be the happiest one, too.”

Once they’re dried off and dressed for bed, Drake snuggles in against Liam’s side under the covers, so utterly relaxed he feels like he could drift off at a moment’s notice. Liam is stroking his hair, still slightly damp, his touch sending goosebumps up Drake’s arms.

“That feels so nice,” he murmurs, lips turned up in a smile. “ _You_ feel so nice.”

“I don’t have as much on my schedule tomorrow,” Liam says, “So we can stay here, like this, if you want to.”

“As if I’d want anything else.”

“I thought as much.”

Drake closes his eyes, resting his head against Liam’s chest while Liam continues brushing his fingers through his hair, arm around his shoulders. He breathes in deep, savoring the smell of their hotel shampoo mingled with something so undeniably Liam, something comforting and addicting that reminds him of home.

Half-asleep, he hears Liam’s voice soft against his ear. “Remember when you asked me what my dreams were like?”

“Mmhm?” Drake mumbles, still on the cusp of dreams himself.

Liam presses a kiss into his hair, tightening his arm around Drake as he nestles into the pillow. “This is what I dreamed about.”

Drake feels his heart fill so full it threatens to spill right out of his eyes.

 

\---

 

Riley and Maxwell get back from LA the next day with Tariq in tow, his statement upon arrival effectively ending the public outcry against her. In response, Liam quietly has a press release issued about the end of his engagement to Madeleine, who immediately packs right back up to Cordonia in a fit of vengeful tears and designer luggage. And all this before lunchtime.

Drake watches the majority of it go down via the hotel television, Liam keeping him out of the action until they figure out exactly how they want to broach the subject of their relationship in public. He’s perfectly content to sit on the couch in his pajamas and order room service, anyway. If this is what it’s like to secretly date a king, it’s not exactly a struggle.

He’s in the same position when Liam returns in the early afternoon, closing the door with a sigh of relief. As soon as he sees Drake, a smile breaks across his face like sunlight. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Drake says back, chest filling with a familiar warmth at the sight of him. Liam crosses over to him, and he stands up to greet him only a moment before Liam pulls him into his arms.

He’s suddenly acutely aware of the fact that Liam is wearing some tailored suit and he’s still in an old t-shirt and boxers. It’s a testament to their character, anyway. Liam doesn’t seem to notice.

“We did it,” he says into Drake’s hair, holding onto him tightly. “It’s just you and me now, forever.”

“Not so fast,” Drake smiles, resting his head against Liam’s shoulder. “You don’t wanna jinx it.”

“Knock on wood, then. But Drake — we actually _did_ _it_.”

Liam’s energy is contagious, buzzing through him like early morning coffee, evident in the way he rests his head atop Drake’s for only a moment before pulling away, dropping one hand down to thread their fingers together. He turns in the direction of the bedroom, pulling Drake along with him. “Come with me?”

“Always,” Drake answers, following behind as Liam pushes through the door.

He stops Drake by the desk, eyes sparkling with a secret. “I have something for you,” he says, kissing Drake softly on the forehead before disappearing into the walk-in closet. “Wait there.”

“What?” Drake twists back, trying to follow him with his eyes. “When did you have time to get something for me?”

“Okay, fine,” Liam calls back, still rummaging around. “I sent one of the staff to find it. But _I_ picked it out.”

“What could you possibly —”

He’s cut short when Liam emerges, holding the gift in his hands, and Drake absolutely loses the ability to form words.

“It was really hard to track down,” Liam says, smiling sheepishly. “But I thought you… well, let me get some glasses.”

He holds out the bottle to Drake, who takes it slowly, like in a dream, fingers brushing over the label as if to verify what he already knows. “This… this is the…”

“It’s the same year and everything. They didn’t make very many, so don’t ask me how much it cost, because I’m not going to tell you.”

Just seeing the bottle brings him there: the night he came back to Liam — _for_ Liam — the night they finally gave in to the feelings that had been burning inside them for years, the night filled with kisses that still taste exactly like this whiskey in his memories.

“I can’t believe you found this,” Drake finally manages, still tongue-tied at the gesture. “I can’t believe… you _remembered_.”

“I can’t believe you thought I could forget,” Liam replies, returning back with two glasses, setting them down on the desk at their side. “Don’t you think I know your signature drink by now?”

“ _Liam_.”

“You know,” Liam says, eyes cast off to the side, leaning in against the desk. “I used to worry maybe you had… moved on, back when things were different.” He raises his gaze up to Drake, a delicate tenderness to his expression. “But whenever I saw you drinking whiskey, I thought… there might still be a chance.”

“You think I only drink whiskey because of you?”

“Am I wrong?”

Drake opens the bottle, pouring them both just enough for a toast. “No.”

Liam takes his glass, eyes meeting Drake’s, smile effervescent. “To our special occasion?”

Drake shakes his head. “We already did that. This one should be… new.”

“Alright,” Liam holds up his glass. “To something new.”

Drake grins, shaking his head before tapping his drink against Liam’s. “Well, that’s one way to do it. To something new, then.”

Liam puts a hand on his arm before he can raise the glass to his lips. “Wait, don’t drink it yet.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Liam answers, stepping closer and setting his own glass on the desk. “We’ve got the whole afternoon to ourselves, and if you drink that, you’re going to taste like whiskey. And… I actually really hate whiskey.”

Drake raises his eyebrows, laughing in spite of himself. “What? All this time you’ve been leading me on?”

“I’m terrible, I know.”

“Why did you even bring that out if you didn’t expect me to drink it?”

“It was a _gesture_.”

“You’re lucky I’m in love with you,” Drake says, “Otherwise you would not be getting away with this.”

Liam plucks the glass from his hands, discarding it next to his as well. “It tastes gross, Drake.”

“It’s not about the _taste_ , you’re supposed to —”

But Liam has already cut him off with a kiss, and Drake loses all desire to argue his point when he feels Liam against him like that, all solid and warm. He tugs on his tie, pulling him closer, and Liam wraps an arm around his neck, tilting in towards him just so. And honestly, Drake forgets all about the whiskey, clutching Liam’s collar and kissing him desperately in that way they always do, like it might be their last.

It occurs to him then that they don’t have to think about ‘lasts’ anymore. The thought only spurs him on further, and he accidentally backs Liam up into the desk, Liam wincing at the impact.

“Sorry,” Drake whispers, their mouths barely an inch apart. Liam just reaches up to stroke the side of his face.

“I can’t believe I get to have you,” Liam says, his eyes full of adoration. Drake turns his head away, cheeks flushing already.

“I’m pretty sure that’s _my_ line, considering you’re a literal handsome prince.”

“You’ve upgraded — I’m a king now.”

“You know there’s no possible way to upgrade from you, right? Please tell me you know that. Like, if we ever break up, I am one hundred percent the loser in the scenario.”

Liam leans in against his forehead. “Drake, you’re so stupid.”

“Trust me, I know.”

A sudden pounding at the hotel door breaks them out of their embrace, Liam suddenly alert once again. “Who —”

Bastien’s voice rings out over the furious knocking. “Honestly, Lord Beaumont, that is _quite_ enough —”

“Of course it’s Maxwell,” Drake sighs, rolling his eyes. “Better go see what he’s up to now.”

The pounding at the door only intensifies as they approach, Bastien sounding more distressed by the second. There’s another voice too — unmistakably Maxwell — chiming in over top of him with vague reassurance, “No, don’t worry, he’s expecting me!”

Liam opens the door with a bemused smile, Drake close behind him. “I am?”

Except it’s not just Maxwell who’s standing there, not just Bastien either, but Riley. She’s got sunglasses pushed up in her hair, looking particularly casual in a tank top and jeans, grinning over at Maxwell while he continues bothering Bastien.

“Sorry!” she says, turning to Liam at the sound of the door. “You never respond to our texts, so I knew it was the only way to get your attention. I tried to explain that I’m a loud New Yorker, but Maxwell says the physical act of knocking makes his hands dry and he didn’t bring travel-sized lotion.”

“You can’t buy lotion at the store?” Liam shoots Maxwell a dubious look. At the prior mention of his name, he’s sidled back up alongside Riley, and he rolls his eyes at Liam’s question.

“You _would_ say that,” he scoffs, “Not all of us are genetically blessed with perfect skin, Liam. Some need to rely on exclusive Scandinavian chemists.”

“There’s free lotion in the bathroom if you want some,” Drake adds, arms crossed, bored with the conversation already. They’d really had their afternoon barged in on for _this_?

“The point is that I don’t _need_ any because I didn’t have to —”

“Wait,” Riley interrupts, craning her neck slightly to see past Liam’s side. “Drake? You’re here too?”

Fuck. Drake’s eyes shoot to Liam, who has turned over his shoulder to look back at him, one hand already on the door as if he’d like nothing more than to shut it. Neither of them seems to know what to say, until finally Drake manages, “I stopped by.”

“You’re not even dressed,” Riley points out. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“Why should I get dressed?” Drake counters, “My room is right across the hall.”

Liam, who is the world’s worst liar, adds, “We were watching a movie,” even though the television is still loudly rolling the news behind them.

Drake purses his lips in exasperation, but Riley doesn’t push it. Instead, Maxwell slings an arm around her shoulders and changes the subject abruptly, although it’s clearly been the intent of their visit all along. “Do you want to go to Coney Island with us?”

Riley looks out at them sheepishly. “I tried to tell Maxwell it’s a boring old tourist trap, but he won’t listen, so I figure he needs to see it for himself.”

Maxwell gives her an exaggerated frown. “No one is going to want to come if you pitch it like _that_.”

“ _I’m_ sorry,” Riley rolls her eyes at him, “Please allow me to elaborate on how much fun it is to stand in line for hours just to ride on the world’s most boring Ferris wheel and then watch a middle-aged man vomit up a hotdog at the exit.”

“I’m sold,” Drake says, “Love a good vomit show in the afternoon.”

“ _Ri-ley_ ,” Maxwell whines, “You said you would get them on board.”

She sighs, but her expression softens. “Okay, all gross tourists aside, it _would_ be better if you guys came. Hana and Olivia are in, so it’ll almost be like we’re normal friends with no broken engagements or royal conspiracies to deal with for once.” She raises her eyebrows, tilting her head to the side. “Appealing, right?”

“I could buy it out for the night,” Liam offers, “Then you wouldn’t have to —”

Riley makes a face. “Ugh, _no_ , Liam. Stop being King for like, one second. The point is doing something normal. This has been the most abnormal week of my life, and I highly doubt it’s been otherwise for anyone else, so if I want to get sick off of funnel cake while waiting in line for an overpriced roller coaster, all of New York will just have to be there to see it.”

Maxwell’s eyes widen. “You never said anything about funnel cake.”

“It’s a tourist theme park, Maxwell. They _all_ have funnel cake.”

“What time are we meeting, then?” Liam asks, “Before dinner?”

Both Maxwell and Riley’s faces light up at his response, while Drake’s falls. There goes his evening.

“We were thinking like, around dinnertime?” Riley says, “So maybe six. You’ll come?”

“Sure,” Liam smiles, looking back at Drake for reassurance. “It’ll be nice, right?”

“So nice,” Drake deadpans, “I can’t wait.”

Riley waves her hand at him dismissively. “Oh, shh, Debbie Downer. You’ll love it, even if you won’t admit it. We’ll meet in the lobby in a few hours then. And Liam — please don’t wear a suit.”

“Or a tie,” Maxwell adds. “Or those Ferragamo loafers.”

 

\---

 

A few minutes prior to six, with Liam deemed sufficiently casual (he’d tried for at least ten minutes to explain that a button-down could potentially be a ‘theme park look,’ much to Drake’s chagrin), the two of them make their way out into the hall, Liam holding the door open for him like it’s some kind of date. Drake half expects him to pull out a bouquet of roses from behind his back, but instead he just takes Drake’s hand. Regardless of how exceedingly sappy it all is, Drake smiles when he feels Liam’s fingers weave in with his.

Bastien emerges from the doorframe and slips in next to them, the other members of the security following his lead. When they pass by him on their way to the elevators, Drake hears him whisper the same thing into his earpiece as before, “Peregrine plus one, in flight.”

“Is that your security codename?” He asks Liam.

“Hm?” Liam looks over at him. “Oh, Peregrine? Yes… you never knew that?”

Drake shrugs. “I guess I never paid attention.”

He reaches to press the elevator button, but one of the King’s Guard already has, two of them standing on either side of the elevator doors. Drake’s almost forgotten what it’s like to be with Liam outside the palace grounds, where he’s suddenly more than just the boy he loves.

He holds Liam’s hand just a touch tighter.

After the team does a quick sweep of the elevator, the two of them board, Bastien swiping a keycard to take them to the lobby. Liam leans over to whisper to Drake, “You have one too, you know.”

“One what? Wait… a codename?” Drake shoots him a bemused smile. “Seriously? What is it?”

“Um…” Liam averts his eyes, voice suddenly even quieter. “Well, it’s ‘pelican.’”

Drake drops his hand. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

“Fucking _pelican_?”

Liam is doing a terrible job of concealing the laughter in his eyes. “You know, because you have a big mouth?”

“I’m _this_ close to breaking up with you right now.”

They arrive at the first floor, Liam now openly chuckling as the security steps out ahead of him, Drake stalking out after them with a frown on his face. “You’re bullshitting me, aren’t you? I swear to god, Liam, this is the least funny joke I have _ever_ heard.”

Liam shakes his head. “I’m serious. You’re just the plus one right now because there’s a whole team of them out there who have to report on every single movement I make. A lot of them knew your dad, you know. I think Bastien is just trying to be… discreet.”

“Oh. Well, that’s… considerate of him.”

Liam smiles. “Something wrong with being my plus one?”

“It’s highly preferable to ‘pelican,’ if they’re taking suggestions.”

“I’ll make a note of it.”

The rest of their friends have assembled in the lobby, huddled around the luxury furniture with their various interpretations of New York Casual. Olivia looks deeply uncomfortable, but her sour expression is overpowered by the mega-watt smile on Maxwell’s face. He’s standing right at Riley’s side, barely a space between them, and in contrast her smile seems to be only for him.

Her expression shifts when she sees Drake and Liam approaching, something softer and welcoming. “Oh, I’m so glad you decided to come! It’s going to be the best.”

‘The best’ turns out to be a loose interpretation of the truth, because once they all unload at the destination, Drake is viscerally reminded why he typically chooses to avoid social outings. It’s crowded and hot and humid, and Maxwell is just as loud as usual, and the only thing he wants to do (hold Liam’s hand) is the only thing he can’t.

“I thought it necessary to let everyone know that I do in fact have acute motion sickness,” Hana says as Riley tugs her along by her arm. “It might be prudent to engage in the buddy system.”

Olivia shoots her an exasperated look. “Your buddy can be one of the King’s Guard then, because if you think I dragged myself out to this godforsaken locale in order to hold back your hair when you throw up, you’d be _very_ mistaken.”

“Don’t worry Hana,” Riley says, pointing ahead with her free hand. “We’re going on the Wonder Wheel first. You can do that, right?”

Hana looks out at the enormous Ferris wheel warily. Maxwell lets out a loud sigh.

The line is so long that after fifteen minutes or so, Riley relents and lets Liam pull the royalty card to get them to the front, Bastien following them onto the ride looking less than thrilled. They pair off in twos — except for Olivia, who insists on riding by herself — and Hana ends up quietly boarding alongside another member of the security team. Drake only feels bad for five seconds.

Shut away in the ride compartment with Liam, the din of the crowd outside dulls. As the ride creaks into its rotation, Drake leans in towards Liam and finally reaches for his hand.

Liam is quiet, looking out at the view with a curious solemnity to his expression. “What are you thinking about?” Drake asks.

“So much has changed since we were last here,” Liam says, eyes scanning the horizon. “This year, it’s been… unexpected, to say the least. I can’t help but wonder, if everything hadn’t fallen into place the way it has now…”

“Remember what you said the other night? About waiting for bad things to happen when you have good ones right in front of you?”

“You’re right, I just…” Liam turns to offer him a half-smile. “You know I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t worrying.”

Drake reaches his free hand across to brush through Liam’s hair. “No more worrying, Liam. You’re going grey. You’ve got this little streak right… here.”

Liam touches the place where Drake’s fingers were. “Do I really?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of endearing, though. As long as you don’t let yourself get any more.”

Liam’s smile returns. “I’m glad you find my premature aging to be endearing. It would be unfortunate if that weren’t the case.”

Drake laughs softly, shaking his head. “Said as if you aren’t _literally_ one of People’s 100 Most Beautiful.”

“That was a fluke. And since when did you read magazines?”

“It’s _you_ ,” Drake says, “Of course I read it.”

Liam brings his hand under Drake’s chin, tilting his face up so he can bring their lips together, soft and easy like it always should have been. Drake slides his hand up Liam’s arm, clutching first at his shoulder before he moves to his neck, fingers brushing against the back of his hair as Liam hums against his mouth. The world around them seems so unimportant when they’re like this: wrapped up in each other and buoyed in bliss.

Drake pulls back just an inch, gazing out at Liam with unadulterated affection. “I’m so in love with you, you know? It’s almost terrifying.”

Liam kisses him again, short and sweet. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Drake brings his hand up, tracing behind Liam’s ear and then down along his jaw, fingers finally pausing curled in along the side of his face, thumb brushing just under his lower lip. “Sometimes I think I was born to love you.”

A gentle blush rises in Liam’s cheeks, and he doesn’t make much of an effort to hide his growing smile. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

“As long as no one’s around to hear it.”

He ends up in Liam’s lap again, both of them barely bothering to take in the view of the city when they have the view of each other instead. It’s a wonder they even manage to notice the ride begin slowing to a stop, what with the way Liam has Drake breathing so hard, hands up the back of his shirt. It’s embarrassing how quickly Liam can unravel him, body and soul, leave his mind jumbled and his skin aching whenever they part.

“Can you use your King powers to let us stay on?” He says, Liam kissing up the side of his neck. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“You haven’t even _tried_.”

“I only use my powers for good.”

“This isn’t good?” Drake shifts his hips forward, Liam biting against his skin at the movement. “C’mon, babe…”

“That would be deeply unhygienic,” Liam whispers, lifting his head up to look Drake in the eyes. “I can’t authorize it with a clear conscience.”

“Oh, so _now_ you don’t like getting your hands dirty?”

Liam just smiles at him, head tilted, tracing circles in the skin at his waist. “The ride’s almost over. Humor Maxwell and Riley for a bit, okay? After we get back, I’m all yours.”

“Fine,” Drake sighs, Liam pressing one more kiss against his cheek. “But I’ll have you know this is _not_ my idea of a perfect first date.”

Liam laughs, watching as Drake untangles himself from their embrace, shifting back onto the bench seat. “This isn’t our first date.”

Drake raises an eyebrow. “You have something else planned?”

“No,” Liam says. “Well — yes, I do — but that’s not what I mean. I mean our first date… that was when I took you out on the boat.”

“Correction: we _stole_ a boat in the middle of the night and then you crashed it.”

“We _both_ crashed it, thank you very much.”

Drake leans his chin on his hand, looking over at Liam fondly. “I wasn’t aware you wanted that to be a date.”

“Well, neither was I, at the time,” Liam says, “But it sure ended like one.”

“That it did.”

The Ferris wheel comes to a halt, an overworked ride attendant opening their compartment and gesturing haphazardly towards the exit. Liam gets out first, offering Drake his hand when it’s his turn to come down the steps. Drake makes a face at him, but he still takes it.

They wait at the exit for the others to get off, regrouping near the bumper cars. Olivia is still scowling, the same expression she had when she boarded, while Hana is looking a bit worse for wear. Maxwell and Riley are the last ones to disembark, both noticeably pink-cheeked, and Maxwell loops his arm around her again as the two of them approach the group.

“Funnel cake break?” he announces, grinning out at them. “We could see the line from up there, I figure if a few of us take one for the team we can get enough for everyone before they close.”

“I don’t eat food prepared by street urchins,” Olivia sniffs.

“I don’t think I can eat _any_ food,” Hana adds quietly, holding on to Bastien’s arm in a death grip, still looking a tad sweaty.

Liam, chivalrous as always, offers to wait in line with Maxwell (and bring Hana back some ice water). Drake, Olivia, and Riley are delegated to find a table, but Olivia deserts them thirty seconds in with a blunt, “My Uber is here.”

The area surrounding the food court is packed, so Riley leads Drake out along the boardwalk, eyes scanning for unoccupied benches. The longer they walk, the less focused they become on their mission, until finally they come to a pause under a streetlight, looking out at the ocean.

“I guess we could just eat on the beach,” Riley says, folding her arms over the railing and leaning her chin atop. “Lots of hypodermic needles and seagulls. A very authentic experience, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“I don’t think I was looking for any type of experience, if we’re being honest. Especially an authentic one.”

Riley’s eyes slide over to the side, appraising him for a moment before she speaks again. “Yeah… you haven’t been out much this trip. When was the last time you actually went around the city? When I took you to that antique store?”

“Probably.” Drake leans against the railing next to her, the slight breeze from the ocean a welcome reprieve from the humid summer air.

A tiny smile makes its way across Riley’s face. “I see.”

There’s a pause while they look out at the sun’s reflection on the water, just barely beginning to slip below the horizon. Riley speaks again. “How was your movie?”

“Movie?”

“When we came to invite you earlier,” she says, “You and Liam. You were… watching a movie.”

Her pointed tone is not lost on him. He scratches at the back of his neck. “It… it was alright.”

“What kind of movie was it?” Riley looks over at him, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Was it a romance? I heard there’s a really good one that just came out. It’s about two best friends who fall in love.”

“Haven’t heard of it.”

“No, I’m sure you have. One of them is a king.”

Drake turns to meet her gaze, his expression deadpan. “Of course.”

“I’m not so certain what the critics are saying about it though,” she muses, avoiding his eyes and looking back out towards the ocean instead. “What do you think?”

“I just told you, I haven’t heard of this movie.”

“ _Drake_.”

“Fine.” He takes a deep breath, eyes following hers out to the waves, their inky color swallowing even more of the sun now. “It’s good.”

“Just good?”

“Jesus, you and Maxwell are relentless.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s… really good, okay? Two thumbs up, five stars, all of that.”

She smiles, nudging his shoulder with hers. “I can’t wait to watch it.”

“Yeah, well, if all goes according to plan, you never will.”

“Spoilsport,” She shoots him an exaggerated frown, but it breaks into a smile only a moment later. “Seriously though, Drake… you seem… _happy_.”

He thinks of Liam, of the way he looks in the morning before he’s fully stepped into his role as a royal, of the way he reaches for Drake’s hand when he’s anxious, of the way his laugh always makes it seem like things will be okay. 

“I am,” he says, a hint of a smile breaking free.

“Oh my god, and now you’re talking openly about your feelings? Love truly has changed you.”

“Ugh,” The smile falls as quickly as it came. “Why do I even bother with you?”

“Because you like me,” Riley grins. “I’m cute and charming and we’re friends now, whether you like it or not. Even if I almost got engaged to your boyfriend.”

Hearing her actually say the word in reference to Liam makes his heart swell. “You’re forgiven. It was an extenuating circumstance.”

“Plus the key word is ‘almost.’ I’m no Madeleine.”

“And thank god for that.”

“Liam’s a sweetheart,” Riley says, “Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m not still into your man, but obviously I came to Cordonia for a reason. He’s really a wonderful person. I think… I think this is good for him, you know? He deserves to be happy more than anyone.”

“I know.”

“Props to you, of course. Kissing him wasn’t exactly a chore, if you know what I mean.”

“God, okay — point _taken_ , thanks.”

Riley laughs, elbowing him. “What’s the point of me if not to mess with you?”

“Clearly not much.”

They look out at the water for a beat of silence, a sort of familiarity shared between the two of them in the moment. He thinks then that maybe there is, in fact, a note of truth in all those rom-com cheesy happy endings; there’s a palpable lightness to the two of them now that certainly wasn’t there before. 

“I have, like, a million questions,” Riley says, pushing off from the railing and starting back on the boardwalk path again, “But I doubt you’ll answer any of them.”

“You’d be correct.”

She sighs, and he follows along at her side, the two of them heading towards the lights and the noise and the rest of their friends. “Can I ask them anyway?”

“No.”

She spends the whole walk back ignoring his response, chattering away gleefully. “When did you both _know_? Who made the first move? Is it too soon to give you a Brangelina-esque couple name? Maxwell and I already came up with some ideas, so just let me know if — wait, oh my god, is this your first _official_ date? Does it count as a date if we’re all here too? Should we leave?”

“Never change, Riley,” he sighs, tuning her out as best he can. “Never change.”

 

\---

 

He ends the night walking along the beach, just him and Liam. Maxwell and Riley have paired off near the carnival games, challenging each other at every single booth they can find. In the absence of Olivia, one of the King’s Guard finally just took Hana home.

There’s an anonymity that blooms around the two of them as the sun falls and the crowd dissipates, leaving them as two shadows in the sand, two nameless figures without titles or kingdoms or responsibilities. Drake relaxes into it, as close to Liam as he can possibly be, their hands joined together without fear of repercussion.

“Thanks for agreeing to come here with me,” Liam says, “I know it wasn’t quite your idea of how to spend our last night in New York.”

“Not quite, no.” Drake half-smiles, looking up at Liam. “I can’t believe you broke out the special occasion whiskey for this.”

“Well, what did you have in mind as an alternative?”

“Honestly?”

Liam pauses, turning to look at him too, and his face is aglow from the moonlight and the scattered streetlamps on the boardwalk behind them. It reminds Drake of the way he looked when they were teenagers, albeit with a few more years of wisdom carved in. And that little grey streak.

He loses his train of thought, spellbound at the way the ocean reflects in Liam’s eyes. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Liam turns his head away, glancing down at the ground. “Oh, stop.”

“If I kissed you right now, would anyone notice?”

“Bastien definitely would.”

“Ugh — moment ruined.”

Liam drops his hand so he can slip his arm around Drake’s waist. “You’ll always be my special occasion, you know.”

Drake lets out a laugh, wrapping his arm around Liam’s shoulders. “I can’t believe you just said that. I’m embarrassed _for_ you.”

“No you’re not,” Liam looks over at him with a smile. “You’re blushing again.”

“Oh, come on, I call bullshit. It’s literally so dark out here, there’s no way you could —”

Somehow Liam manages to pull Drake in against him and kiss him quiet, Drake making a soft sound of surprise before he relents and draws Liam closer, eyes flickering closed. Liam tastes like cinnamon sugar, perhaps the one perk of theme park food, and Drake wants nothing more than to drag him back to the hotel and keep kissing him until the sun comes up. But Liam pulls back barely a minute in, reaching up to trace one finger across Drake’s cheek.

“See?” he says, “Blushing.”

“You’re _so_ dumb.”

“Maybe,” Liam presses a kiss to the other cheek. “Or maybe I just love you.”

“No one is going to take you seriously as a king if you go around saying things like that.”

“Like what?” Liam’s eyes are sparkling. “That I love you? That I’m crazy about you? That you’re the only person I ever want to wake up to again?”

“Oh my god,” Drake laughs, breaking free from Liam and kicking sand at him. “ _Liam_.”

Liam laughs too, dodging another burst of sand. “You’re being _needlessly_ cruel when all I’m doing is offering you kindness.”

Drake shakes his head, laughter still on his lips. “Fine, come here then, you stupid beautiful king.”

This kiss is just as sweet as the cinnamon sugar. Drake wraps his arms around Liam’s neck, Liam holding him close, the chill of the ocean breeze stinging against their faces. It’s not the same as Cordonia, not remotely the same, but the way Drake’s heartbeat speeds up when Liam parts his lips is deliciously familiar.

“Is this the kind of night you had in mind?” Liam whispers. In answer, Drake kisses him again. And again, and again, and again.

They only part when Drake’s phone starts going off incessantly with text messages. They’re all from Maxwell, variations on the same theme: _WHERE R U WE NEED HELP CARRYING ALL THE STUFFED ANIMALS RILEY WON._

“We should get back,” Liam says, Drake letting out a sigh as he scrolls through a long wall of animal emojis. Just like Maxwell to have such impeccably awful timing.

They take their time returning, pretending that it’s just the two of them (no tourists, no security detail, no texts from Maxwell), amicably silent as they listen to the waves against the shore. Drake can’t stop smiling, stealing glances at Liam as they walk, only for him to return the smile tenfold.

They hear Maxwell and Riley before they see them, loud peals of laughter that can only belong to the two of them. They’re standing at a basketball booth, Riley sinking a final shot and raising her fists triumphantly as he and Liam round the corner. Maxwell, at her side, is keeping watch over a whole zoo of oversized stuffed animals. Riley, having selected her newest prize, turns to hand him a giant inflatable hammer, and he sweeps her up in his arms instead, twirling her around as she shrieks with laughter.

“Hey,” Drake says, nodding in their direction. “I think Maxwell might have stolen your girl.”

“What?” Liam follows his gaze just in time to see Maxwell set Riley down before she drops the hammer and flings her arms around him, kissing him so easily it’s clear this is not the first time they’ve done this.

“Oh.” Liam turns to Drake, eyebrows raised. “Wow. When did that happen?”

Drake shrugs. “I have no idea.”

When Riley pulls back, she spots the two of them over Maxwell’s shoulder, her cheeks flushing right away. She whispers something to Maxwell, and he turns, seemingly unfazed as he grins at the two of them. “You’re back! Quick, can you guys carry the domesticated animals? Riley and I have a lock on the exotic breeds.”

“Who gets the hammer?” Drake deadpans. Riley takes this opportunity to pick it back up and hit him with it.

They manage to transport the shared winnings (with a bit of help from the King’s Guard, who look as though they can’t wait to retire) back to the motorcade, Maxwell taking extra care to buckle several of the animals into their seats while Riley beams at him.

“Can we ride with the motorcycle cop instead?” she asks Liam while Bastien tries to usher them fully inside the car.

Liam smiles. “No.”

Drake doesn’t realize how tired he is until he and Liam are settled in Liam’s ridiculous bulletproof royal SUV, Maxwell and Riley thankfully delegated to the car behind. As the driver pulls away into the street, Liam leans his head against Drake’s shoulder, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Drake wraps his arm around him.

“I can’t wait to go home tomorrow,” Liam says quietly. “I miss it.”

“Me too.”

Liam closes his eyes, nestling in against Drake even more. “I’ll miss this too, though. Just being with you, like we’re normal people.”

“Liam, we’re literally in a motorcade. All these cars have the seal of Cordonia on the side. The windows are bulletproof.”

“Okay, but — you know what I mean.”

Drake traces circles on Liam’s shoulder, kissing the top of his head. “Yeah. I do.”

“Promise me we’ll never forget to be normal sometimes?” Liam says, tilting his head up and blinking slowly, trying to meet Drake’s eyes. “I want to do all the most regular things with you. Just like anyone else.”

“Sure,” Drake smiles. “I can teach you how to fold laundry and make pancakes and shit.”

“You know how to fold laundry?”

“Well… Savannah can teach you how to fold laundry.”

Liam laughs, reaching across Drake’s lap to hold his hand. “Raincheck on that one, then.”

They’re silent the rest of the way, Liam dozing off at his side for most of the trip, Drake watching the city lights blur by out the windows. It’s quiet in the car, only the gentle hum of the air coming through the vents, and Drake feels his eyes start to get heavy too. He rests his own head atop Liam’s, slipping into sleep with surprising ease.

They wake up upon arriving at the hotel, both warm and groggy, and when Drake looks down at Liam he almost forgets that the face currently tucked into his shoulder is that of a king. His best friend, yes; his boyfriend, by all intents and purposes. But royalty, a singular ruler of a European country? Not this sleepy-eyed, bed-headed boy.

“C’mon babe,” he whispers, carding a hand through Liam’s hair, brushing the wayward pieces back into place. “Time to go. We’re here.”

Liam lifts his head up with a tiny sigh, blinking slowly. “We’re home?”

“Well, we’re at the hotel, at least.”

Liam manages a tired smile. “Good enough.”

When they get out, Drake expects Liam will drop his hand for the walk inside. He’s already loosened his grip in anticipation, but as the car pulls away from behind them, Liam only curls his fingers tighter around Drake’s.

Riley and Maxwell are just ahead of them, making their way into the hotel lobby as well. They’re holding hands, two separate members of the King’s Guard trailing behind them with arms full of Riley’s carnival game spoils. Maxwell is talking animatedly about something, gesturing wildly with his free hand, Riley smiling up at him like he’s just hung the moon.

Normally Drake would be apt to make a sarcastic remark. The situation is ripe for it, anyway, but it’s as if the honeymoon daze of Liam at his side has softened things. He doesn’t feel burdened anymore, doesn’t dread the thought of what tomorrow will bring.

He nudges Liam’s shoulder. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Liam looks at him. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I…” Drake feels himself starting to smile before the words are even out. “I just love you.”

Liam smiles back, squeezing his hand. “I love you more.”

“Gross,” Drake wrinkles his nose. “Also, impossible.”


End file.
